"What are you waiting for?" Elia whispered.

They stood facing the entrance to the Heart of the Forest, the boulders bearing the marks of the leaf and the flower right in front of him.

"I don't know what awaits us in there. I don't know if the spell will work. I don't know if I am leading you all into trouble—"

"Still trying to get rid of us?" Caladon shot him a pointed look.

"If something goes wrong, four of us stand a better chance than one alone." Bergil crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Perhaps," Andor said, not quite convinced. He still didn't like the thought of his friends walking into danger because of him. This was his task after all. He had gotten himself into this and he would see this through, no matter the cost, but he would not be able to live knowing that something happened to them, just because he had allowed them to come along.

"So, are we going to stand here all day?" Caladon shuffled lazily with his feet through a pile of fallen leaves before him.

"You are not helping," Elia snapped at Caladon, but he only shrugged and took a curious peek through the low lying branches ahead.

"There is still time to turn around if you want to," Andor said, facing them.

"Let's get this over with." Bergil clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Send the human girl home and be done with it."

Bergil was right, of course. They all were right. Delaying this wouldn't make it any easier and he couldn't risk being late for the meeting with Xanthos.

Onwards it was, and so he stepped through the invisible barrier, feeling a lot more reckless than confident. The ripple of ancient magic licked at his skin like an icy flame. It was as if every single being in the glade turned its attention towards him and towards the presence of Rose's soul in the phial he was carrying.

The cloudless sky above stood in stark contrast to the tension that simmered in the atmosphere around them. Despite the mellow colours and sweet scent of flowers, there was an undercurrent of danger in the air. He wasn't sure if it was his subconscious warning him to be on his guard or if it was just his imagination running wild.

One glance at his friends told him that they could feel it too. Elia's brows were narrowed, her eyes surveying their surroundings like a hawk. While Bergil might succeed in keeping a look of calm disinterest on his face, the stiffness in his broad shoulders spoke volumes. Even the mischievous grin that usually tugged at the corners of Caladon's mouth was somewhat subdued.

Andor halted just beyond the ring of trees, the tall sentinels standing watch over the Heart of the Forest. "Wait," he told his friends and they came to stand beside him.

He unslung his bow from his shoulder as well as his quiver, placing both against the trunk of a massive beech beside him.

"You should do the same." Seeing the hesitation on their faces he added, "I know that none of us like to part with our arms, but I don't think that approaching Rose with them is a good idea. She might get the wrong impression. We should at least leave our bows and quivers behind."

"Andor is right," said Elia, dropping her backpack to be able to take off her own bow and quiver. Caladon and Bergil followed suit, although rather reluctantly. "I'm keeping my knife, and so should you all," Bergil stated after he had deposited his own bow and quiver beside the others. "Not because of the human, but because it is not wise to be walking into the unknown completely unarmed."

"Are you expecting the flowers to attack us?" Caladon arched an eyebrow.

"Good to know that your sense of humour hasn't deserted you," Andor said with a chuckle.

While Elia was still shuffling through her backpack, searching for the clothes she had brought, Andor shouldered Rose's bag and surveyed the glade before him.

It was quiet, too quiet. There was no buzzing of insects, no fluttering of wings, neither birds nor butterflies. An eerie silence blanketed the glade. Even the rustling of leaves appeared to have come to a halt. Nature itself was holding its breath, listening, waiting. Only the purling of the fountain remained unfazed by whatever had drained the life from everything around it.

The faster he got this over with, the better.

"I'll walk ahead," he said to Bergil and Caladon, and for once he did not hear a word of protest from them. "Elia, you stay close to me." He looked over his shoulder towards her and she walked right up to him, the bundle of forget-me-not-blue pressed against her chest. A nod was all he got from her, all he needed from her, knowing that she would not falter and keep a clear head no matter what awaited them.

With as much calm as he could muster he pulled the phial carrying Rose's soul out of his pocket. It was warm against his palm and the crystal clear liquid eddied inside, a contained tempest ready to swell into a full storm once released from its prison.

Keeping his eyes on the phial, he walked slowly, each accidentally crushed white flower beneath his bare feet burning into his skin. He couldn't avoid it, no matter how carefully he stepped, and neither could Elia by his side. From the corner of his eyes he could see the mixture of awe and trepidation on her face as they walked on.

Bergil and Caladon had kept their distance like he had told them to. Knowing that they had their backs felt somehow reassuring. He was about to do something unheard of, something that would be highly frowned upon by his people, something that might even throw their whole realm into the abyss of chaos if it went wrong, yet his friends remained calm and steadfast by his side.

A tremble went through the phial and the liquid inside roiled, small waves cresting against the glass, a tiny but powerful ocean about to break free. It began to glow golden inside, a light to guide him. An answering golden light emerged from the ground not far ahead, close to the boulder where the spring fed the pool beneath.

Elia gasped. "There, the light!" she whispered.

He opened his hand, the phial in his palm glowing brighter and brighter with every step he took.

"That must be her flower," he whispered back. There couldn't be any doubt about it. Serande had been clear about how he would find her, how Rose's soul would be drawn to the flower that was the visible remain of her sacrifice. How both halves would desire to be united again.

The hammering in his chest was so loud that he was sure Elia and even Caladon and Bergil must hear it. He didn't look back though, his eyes were now on the glimmering spot ahead, the one flower that gleamed like a brilliant jewel in the sunlight, outshining all others around it.

Like a dew drop in the morning light it glittered iridescently, drawing him closer, step after step. He didn't look down, didn't look at Elia. The tremble inside the phial grew into a mighty rumble reverberating through his body, seeping into every fibre of his being.

"Rose," he breathed, to the phial or to the flower ahead, he didn't know, but when he called her name, a ray of light rose from the flower, arching upwards, searching for what it had lost. He had to close his hand around the phial to keep it from slipping from his grasp. It bucked against his fingers like a wild horse wanting to break free from reins forced upon it.

Another step, and then another one, he waded through the sea of flowers, his eyes only on the one that pulled him towards it, the echo of her name filling the silence around him. Even the air seemed now to whisper it in a myriad of hushed voices.

"Rose." Her name was a like a mantra on his lips when he finally stood before her flower, its tiny petals open towards the sunlight. They were so delicate and seemed to glow from within, their colour not white but a blazing gold. The flower stood upright and completely still as if in anticipation of what was about to happen.

Andor exhaled a long breath, the liquid inside the phial now a raging tempest straining to be released.

"This is it," he said to Elia, who had come to stand beside him, her ebony hair gleaming like raven's feathers in the sunlight.

"Do it," she said, determination in her voice despite the doubts he knew she still harboured deep down in her heart.

He hesitated for another moment.

"If you are wondering about us," Bergil spoke up behind him, "we are still here."

"Let's see that magic you've bottled in there." The casualness of Caladon's words couldn't quite hide the apprehension in his voice.

Andor nodded silently, turning his attention back to the phial in his hand and the flower on the ground. He had but one chance. One chance to make it right or to spoil it all. This was it. No turning back now. With slightly unsteady hands he uncorked the phial, the soul within silently pleading to be set free. He held it aloft before him, the flower's golden rays rushing up to meet the phial's glowing light.

"Rose," he said once more, her name falling from his lips almost without his doing. Warmth filled his chest, simmering embers of a fire she had ignited in him. A fire that would consume him until his heart was nothing but ashes. It felt foolish to keep those flames alive, but he didn't care.

He tilted the phial, the maelstrom rattling impatiently against the glass. Giving himself a push he turned the phial upside down, watching mesmerised as the liquid dripped from the glass, pouring like a golden rain onto the awaiting petals.

The words, he needed to say the words. He had been repeating them in his head over and over, so he wouldn't forget them. Taking another deep breath, he willed his voice to be steady, despite the tempest that tore through his chest.

"May the spirit of the Ancient One revoke this sacrifice and allow this human soul to reclaim its rightful name."

A phantom wind carried his words through the air until they settled around him. Then there was only oppressing silence, and for a moment he feared that he had done something wrong.

But then Elia tugged at his sleeve, pointed at the flower and said, "Look!"

The light enveloping Rose's flower brightened further, molten gold turning to white. When it flared up with the power of a thousand suns Andor instinctively took a step back and pulled Elia with him. The burst made him cover his eyes. Then the light was gone, the blinding brightness receding as quickly as it had come, and he allowed himself to look.

To be continued in part 2